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Fistbump 2: Unspeakable (a Pinecest story)	By : Edward_or_Ford Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls Views: 21283 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls or its characters. I will not earn any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Dipper was released from hospital in the second week of October, after nearly a month of recovery. His ribs and collarbone were healed enough to no longer require any bracing, but they still felt tender. His leg was still in a cast, so crutches were a necessity. Surprisingly, his face appeared almost completely healed: Dipper was actually impressed that there was practically no outward sign of the beating he had taken, only some residual bruising and swelling that would disappear in time. The doctor had told him he was lucky that his attackers had not hit him on his nose, as broken cartilage rarely heals up looking the same as before.
Post-concussion syndrome, however, was still a major issue. Dipper had continuous headaches, a throbbing that never stopped, repeating in wave upon endless wave. He had been taken off the opiate-based drugs after his major trauma injuries had largely healed, and was now on a drug called Vanatrip, an anti-depressant that supposedly had migraine-relief properties. He shuddered to think that his pain might actually be worse without the drug. He was now able to focus on his school homework, but at a price of a much sharper brand of pain than he had at the hospital. He likened it to having a Klingon pain stick jammed into his head and left on, permanently set to 5 out of 10.
Bright light also exacerbated his headaches. Dipper had taken to wearing large, dark sunglasses virtually all the time. His mother joked that he looked “super-cool” in his shades. He knew he didn’t: the glasses weren’t stylish, and they were chosen so as to block the most outside light possible, but he appreciated that she was trying to make him feel better.
But the constant pain was taxing. He couldn’t return to school because of his problems with light and noise. And he was getting really tired of it all.
Dipper’s mother quickly established a routine immediately on his return home. She helped him to the living room couch after breakfast, and he got himself as comfortable as he could. The shades and curtains on the front window were drawn to reduce the sunlight as much as possible. He’d rather have gone back to his room and lay down, but his mother insisted that he had to be dressed and up out of bed.
On most days, there would be a number of visitors from the neighborhood and from their church community. On this morning, it was Mr. and Mrs. Zeidenberg, the neighbors from next door.
After Dipper’s Mom invited them in, the older man waved to Dipper on the couch and called out, “Dipper! Glad to see you home!”
Dipper gave a small smile and raised his hand. “It’s good to be home,” he replied, while thinking, Ow! Please keep your voice down! It’s so loud!
Mrs. Zeidenberg walked over and sat on the chair beside the couch. “You’re looking good, Dipper! Pretty soon no one will know anything happened!”
“Hope so, Mrs. Zeidenberg” he replied politely. Sure, I’ll look fine on the outside, but I’ll feel like roadkill inside!
She smiled sweetly. “You must be glad to get out that hospital,” she told him. “Hospital food is so awful, isn’t it?”
That`s the thousand and fourteenth time I’ve heard someone say that! Dipper shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad.” Hey, mix it up a little, I guess. I’ll go back to agreement when I hear number one thousand and fifteen.
Mr. Zeidenberg sat down in another chair. “So, Dipper! How’re you feeling?”
There it is! My absolute favorite question! “Thanks for asking! You know … I feel like shit! It’s like ten red-hot pokers are being pushed in and out of my head all the time. And your loud, nasally voice just makes it all twice as bad!”
But, of course, I can’t say that.
“I’m doing okay, I guess,” Dipper answered evenly.
Oh, how I want to be honest. But that would be rude, I know. And they’d get all uncomfortable, and think I’m a weak little kid, or whatever! I just wish Mom would quit making me entertain all these people. Like I’m an animal on display!
He missed his friends. Unlike all these adults, having a good geek-out conversation would have been a welcome distraction from the pain. But Ezra lived on the opposite side of Piedmont, so it wasn’t easy for him to visit. Anthony was close by, but he was really busy with Sandra all the time now. Not only had they both been cast in “Hairspray”, they were pretty much an item now.
So very occasional visits from his two “guy” friends were the best he could hope for. Even in the best of circumstances, it would have been difficult for Dipper to maintain good spirits while struggling to tolerate the agony.

And these were not the best of circumstances. Being forced to watch Mabel, and her reaction to their predicament, made sure of that.
Mabel had the reputation of being an eternal optimist. She was always seeing the bright side of things, always working to get people to get along and have fun. She was happy when everyone else was happy. But her life had been fortunate. She had never in her fourteen years experienced a traumatic loss. No close family members had ever passed away. She had not been through the death of a beloved pet. And she had never dealt with the break-up of an intense relationship. This was her first experience with needing to grieve.
After Dipper’s hospitalization, Mabel had, for a time, fooled herself into believing that the two of them could still rescue their romance together. But after Dipper had emphatically rejected that from being possible, Mabel descended into depression.
In the days after Dipper blew up at her in the hospital room, Mabel’s demeanor changed. The appetite and bizarre eating habits she was legendary for immediately went away, and she ate very little. Her exuberant energy disappeared, and her preference for fun and silliness waned. She didn’t want to visit with her girlfriends, and showed no interest in willingly picking up the slack in doing family chores. Also, she seemed tired all the time, and went to bed earlier than she normally did.
Her mother hoped that Dipper’s return from hospital might give Mabel a jolt of happiness by giving her a chance to dote on her brother, but instead she seemed to be trying to avoid him. On the week Dipper came home, Mabel would disappear into her room soon after walking in the door from school.
Mabel was lying on her bed, headphones in her ears, when her mother peeked in her room. “Pumpkin,” she called, “can you please help Dipper with the work you brought home? I’ve got him sitting at the dining table.”
At the mention of helping Dipper, Mabel slouched. “And what is with the attitude towards your brother, young lady?” her mother scolded. “You promised you were past that! He’s only been home a few days, and you barely emerge to speak to anyone. Come out and help, Mabel. We need you!”
“Yes, Mama,” Mabel droned, dragging herself to her feet. She reluctantly headed toward the dining room.
She timidly pulled out the chair next to where her brother sat at the table. “Hey, Broski,” she said carefully, trying to keep her voice quiet.
“Hey, Mabes,” Dipper replied, looking down through his sunglasses at the homework while cradling his head in his hands.
Neither twin had the ability to smile.
Rather than dwell on their mutual discomfort, they worked though Dipper’s Math and History class work. Dipper picked up the statistics concepts from Math well enough, but the assignment on the American Revolution required a lot of reading, then filling in the answers to a series of questions about the important battles of the war.
Dipper was having trouble recalling what he’d just read about the Siege of Yorktown. As was his habit when he was thinking, Dipper chewed on his pen as he tried to recall the date of the surrender of the British troops, and accidentally cracked the shell of his pen, thankfully avoiding an ink leak. He looked around on the table for a replacement pen. Seeing Mabel’s, he reached out in front of her to retrieve it.
Mabel saw that Dipper had chewed another pen to death, and was looking around to steal yet another one from her. Hers was right in front of her, so she decided to just hand it over and went to grab it.
Her hand got there a split second before his. Dipper’s palm landed on the back of Mabel’s hand.
The twins froze. Mabel’s breath caught in her chest: she turned her head and apprehensively peered sideways to her brother. Dipper swallowed. His expression was unreadable behind the glasses.
Then, slowly, Dipper began squeezing her hand, interlacing his fingers into hers. His lips parted as he unsteadily took a breath. His head turned slightly towards her.
Mabel’s eyes immediately became wet, and she let out her breath with a shudder. She felt Dipper’s sweaty palm grip the back of her hand, which she opened up as his fingers curled around hers, and she squeezed back. She tried in vain to see his eyes through the glasses, to make a connection with him again.
Then he yanked his hand back quickly as their mother whisked in from the kitchen. “Supper’s close to ready. You guys clear off the table in about ten minutes, all right?” They both nodded, Dipper adding a simple “OK”, and their mother returned to the kitchen.
An awkward silence followed. Both were staring straight ahead, neither one of them moving. Then Dipper whispered, “We … can’t do that again, Mabel.”
“I know,” Mabel replied in a barely audible breath.
There was another pause, then Dipper looked down and murmured “I’m sorry.”
Mabel turned away and put the pen down in front of him. “Here.” Her voice broke into a high-pitched squeak.
“Thanks,” he muttered in reply. He picked up the pen and continued his task of answering questions on the assignment.
It’s hopeless, Mabel despaired to herself. It’s over! We’re never going to be what we were, ever again! Dipper’s never going to let me back in. So that’s it! No more fun. No more closeness. No more … love!
And yet … here he is, right beside me! A constant reminder of what we were. What’s every morning at breakfast going to be like? “Hey Bro-bro, good morning! Pass the milk, will ya? Sure, here’s the jam for your toast. You ready for that math test? Say, remember when we were super-bonkers head-over-heels in love with each other? … When everything was so great, and … perfect … for about a couple of weeks or so? Yeah … good times … huh? …”
Mabel turned back to Dipper, who was trying to complete a paragraph on Cornwallis’ surrender to Washington. He sensed Mabel watching him, and his pen stopped. He bit his bottom lip and his chest trembled slightly. But he wouldn’t look up and over to her.
She couldn’t stay there any longer. Wordlessly, Mabel got up from the table, managing to stifle a sob. She made her way back towards her room, telling her mother she wasn’t hungry as she passed the kitchen.

It was when a phone call came from the school that Mabel’s parents knew there was something seriously wrong.
The principal of the school informed her mother that there had been reports by three teachers of Mabel’s disturbing behavior traits and lowered quality of her work. She was neglecting to complete homework assignments. She had forgotten to complete work in a group project and cost her team marks. And (most concerning to her parents) she appeared at all times disinterested in doing a good job. None of this was close to normal for their daughter, so an appointment was made for Mabel to see the Pines family’s doctor.
Mabel’s father had taken time off work to take her to the doctor’s appointment. The physician’s first recommendation was that Mabel should have a chance to see a therapist, a professional who could help her through pain of whatever was bothering her. Unfortunately, such therapy was not covered under Mr. Pines’ benefits package at work. There were also hospital fees that had been beyond the plan’s coverage. Combined with his wife’s complete sacrifice of her income over the last month, and the ill-timed backyard renovation, there simply was no money left for new bills.
Instead, the doctor prescribed Prozac for Mabel’s condition. A common antidepressant, it is given to countless teenagers to combat major depressive disorders. The doctor talked to Mabel, and she explained to her how the drug needed to be taken as prescribed, and what changes she should expect to see in herself and her emotions.
Work-related email continued to fly through Mabel’s father’s phone as the doctor explained how the drug works. He was mentally distracted, and completely failed to absorb the doctor’s warning about how sometimes an antidepressant can, in fact, have the completely opposite effect on a person than that which is intended. Sometimes the medication can make the symptoms worse, and that signs for this needs to be watched for.

As October went on, Dipper continued to fall further and further behind on his schoolwork. Despite his intelligence, he was missing a lot of content by not being in class. Reading a textbook is no substitute for participating in a lecture in a classroom. And Dipper’s problems with reading meant that even that wasn’t being done on most days.
Combined with the removal of his leg cast and his mother’s need to return to her clients and start having an income again, Dipper was told it was time to go back to school on the last week of the month. His leg and ribs were still tender, but that wasn’t Dipper’s main concern. He complained to his mother that his headaches would be too much to deal with, and he needed something stronger so that he could tolerate things better. But their family doctor thought that he needed to remain off strong painkillers after being on them so long in the hospital. She suggested he take Tylenol in addition to his existing migraine medication.
The twins were driven to school that Monday. As Dipper slowly eased his way out of the car, his mother called out to Mabel, “You’ll watch out for him today, right, Pumpkin?”
“Mom!” Dipper moaned from behind his sunglasses and under his pulled-down cap. “I’m not a little kid! I can take care of myself!”
After getting a death-stare from her mother, Mabel mutely nodded, and the twins uncomfortably walked into the school together as their mother drove off.

Dipper’s first day back was difficult. The lights in the classrooms dazzled painfully in his eyes, even with the sunglasses. The material being covered was unfamiliar, and he was embarrassed by how stupid he felt. Random loud noises, like a chair squeaking across the floor, shot pain into his head.
But it was even worse between classes and at lunchtime. The cacophony of students moving between classrooms all at once just about overwhelmed Dipper’s ability to cope. And it wasn’t helped by the fact that it was well known why he had been away from school. Some “clever” students felt they needed to remind him about how much of a wimp he was for getting himself beat up in the first place.
Mabel was torn as she saw these things happening. An old part of her wanted to leap to Dipper’s side, helping him when he needed assistance and defending him from those jerks. But her thick layer of low spirits smothered her instincts.
And then, when she did come halfheartedly to his defense once after lunch hour, Dipper resented needing help, not wanting it to look like he needed his sister to protect him. He snapped at her, and told her to let him handle things himself. Backing away and watching Dipper suffer pain and embarrassment from a distance only made Mabel feel worse, and only deepened her depression.

The twins did not share the same class in their final period. As Dipper endured English class as best he could, he cursed the constant pain in his head. This isn’t fair, no one else here has to put up with this! I can’t just keep this up, I’m going to lose it on someone for sure!
Near the end of the class, the teacher produced a quick fifteen minute silent mini essay-writing assignment. Dipper half-assed something onto his paper just to get it over with, set his elbows on his desk, and rubbed his skull firmly, flexing his fingers into his hair over and over. The long day was really getting to him.
As the buzzer sounded (loudly, Dipper noted for the eighth time that day) to mark the end of the period, Dipper was in no hurry to rush out into the madness of the homeward bound frenzy in the hallway. He stayed at his desk, waiting for the mayhem to calm down.
Mabel’s friend Aisha stopped at his desk on her way to the classroom door. “Hey Dipper,” she said kindly. “Not feelin’ so good?”
Dipper appreciated that Aisha wasn’t expecting him to sugar-coat how he was feeling. He shook his head. “Just waiting out the crush. I’d rather not go out there until it slows down a bit.” Then he remembered something. “Do you have a minute, Aisha?”
“I got to get to rehearsal for ‘Hairspray’, pretty much now.”
“This won’t take a second,” Dipper said, as they were now the only ones left in the classroom. Even the teacher had gathered her books and was gone. “Mabel said one time that you know pretty much everyone in the school?”
Aisha waved offhandedly and smiled widely. “Aw, you know me, always gettin’ all up in everyone’s biz-ness! Yeah! Why? What’s up with my Mabel’s little bro-bro?” she smirked teasingly.
Dipper groaned, but forged ahead. “She mentioned a senior that you know named ‘Riley’? Is that right?”
She placed a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow dramatically. “Riley’s cool and all, but she’s into some serious shit that ain’t down in your comfort zone!” She tilted her head and squinted with suspicion. “Why you wantin’ to look her up?”
“I don’t know, just some stuff,” he said evasively, increasing the pressure of his fingers massaging his head. “Can you help me so I can … talk to her about something?”

Three days later on Thursday night, the Pines family was at the dinner table. Neither of the kids had eaten much, and both were even more quiet than normal.
“Dip?” asked their mother. “You’re not complaining about your head, and you seem less bothered tonight. Is the pain getting better?”
Dipper winced and rubbed his scalp. “Maybe just a little, I guess. I think I’m covering it up better.”
“Well, don’t stop taking the Tylenol on top of the Vanatrip, it seems to be working a bit now,” she replied with some relief. Then she turned to Mabel. “Did you take your extra med tonight?” The prescription had called for the dosage of the Prozac to increase that morning.
Mabel answered without really looking up. “Yeah, Mama,” she replied without any spark of her normal self.
Their father was looking back and forth at his children, taking a sip of his tea. “Tonight’s going to be a bit different, it’ll be the first time since you were babies that you won’t be out. You two going to help us at the door?”
Dipper didn’t clue in to what his father was talking about, and didn’t particularly care to find out. “No, I just want to relax for a bit, Dad. And I’ve got a pile of homework.”
Their father looked pointedly at Mabel. She knew what he was referring to, and it tore her apart, but finally had to answer. “Yeah, me too, Daddy,” she said without enthusiasm. “I’ve got a Biology assignment due for Monday, I’ll work on it tonight … I think I’ll start now,” she finished quietly. As she headed to her room, Dipper also excused himself and gingerly made his way towards the bedroom hallway.
Concerned looks were exchanged between the twins’ parents. Adolescence, and Dipper’s slow recovery, seemingly had damaged the twins, their bond, and the whole family as a result. Not for the first time, they started discussing what they could do to repair their family unit. They were just coming up with a plan when the doorbell rang. They smiled ruefully, and went to the door to start their annual duty.

Ahh, thought Dipper, as he carefully steadied himself on the frame of his door before closing it. In private, he didn’t need to focus nearly so hard now on how he looked while walking. He half shuffled, half stumbled across the room, towards his bed. The pain’s not nearly as bad as it was! he thought idly.
He pursed his lips and turned to look at his desk. His backpack was sitting there, heavy with textbooks and binders. He remembered that he had a lot of homework tonight. Why? he wondered. Oh … right! Catching up from all the time I missed. And … also because I didn’t feel like doing anything in class time today. And you know what? Fuck it! I don’t feel like it now, either. I just want to lay down.
Dipper performed a horrible pirouette at the foot of his bed, doing the spin on his newly healed leg. He almost lost balance, but leaped up and back with enough dexterity to actually land on his mattress with a loud springy creak. He chuckled quietly to himself. I am so excellent! he mused.
But … ow! he realized, my leg hurts. Why’s my leg hurting? One stupid little spin before jumping on the bed, and my leg gets all pissy? That’s not fair! Well … that’s easily fixed!
Dipper reached into the back of his side-table’s upper drawer, pulling out a small pharmacy bottle. Just one of these, and my leg will feel a lot better. Hmm … better make it two to be safe.
After grabbing an opened bottle of Coke from his dresser, he tossed two Oxycontin tablets into his mouth, and washed them down with the flat, room temperature soda. He dropped the bottle of pills back in the drawer, noting that it was already about half empty. Yup, Riley was right, these are good! I’m definitely getting a larger bottle from her next time! I’ve still got some money saved from the summer. I’d better find her tomorrow....
Dipper’s eyes almost closed as he reclined his head onto his pillow. Ahh, blessed relief, he thought again with joy, eagerly awaiting the growth of the soothing, spiralling feeling that he was already very accustomed to. Blessed relief … just, why’s the doorbell ringing so fucking much tonight? Go away … want to relax … just relax … yessssss …

Mabel’s assignment for biology was in front of her on her desk. She was seated, pen in hand, physically ready to begin work.
She wasn’t close to mentally ready.
It’s Halloween, was all she could think about.
Halloween was always our event, our big day! Who cares if we’re fourteen? Who cares if we’re in high school? I’d have dragged Dipper’s lame-ass down to the costume store if I’d have thought he could go. But he can’t. And apparently, given how he’s feeling tonight, he doesn’t even want to, either.
The doorbell rang again. She pictured the children, small (and sometimes not-so-small) kids running from house to house, visiting as many as they could, happily receiving the good, non-loser candy from Mama or Daddy at their door. Kids like she and Dipper used to be.
Mabel got up and pulled her Halloween memory book from the shelf. She started at the beginning and stared at the photos, with their cute, complimentary outfits, every one of them, right back to when they were two-month-old infants. She held her expression, keeping it neutral as she studied the photos of two happy children, year after year, growing closer each year. Thirteen Halloweens in all.
And an extra two bonus pages, too: they had been lucky to be up in Gravity Falls for Summerween the last two summers. Peanut butter and jelly last year. Link and Zelda this year. My gosh, we worked together so hard up in the attic in the evenings after work was done, just to be ready for Summerween this year, she recalled. They turned out so well, and everyone loved them! Even the people like Grunkle Stan who had no idea who we were supposed to be.
Swallowing, Mabel turned the page to the space reserved for Halloween this year.
Blank. It would always be blank.
Forever.
The book slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor with a thud. Mabel’s face crumbled, bottled-up tears now cascading down her cheeks. Sobbing quietly, she concluded that “blank” was as good as life was going to be, from now on. Empty, joyless … just … EXISTENCE! That’s all life is, now!
I don’t want this. I … can’t live like this! I’d rather just … not … live …
Mabel curled up on top of her bed, soft cries continuing to fill her room.

November came. Leaves turned, and temperatures fell a bit more. There was more cold rain. Christmas decorations appeared in stores and public buildings. Thanksgiving dinners were eaten, and there was Black Friday shopping.
At Piedmont High School, the production of “Hairspray” was a big success. Everyone marvelled at the performance of Aisha, who stole the show in her role as Inez Stubbs. Following the show’s closing night, she was immediately asked to join the school’s glee club, and she instantly accepted. Jordan and Juanita had only minor ensemble roles in the play, but at Aisha’s insistence they auditioned for the club, and both were also invited to join. Since all three were used to being at practice for the play all the time, additional time at lunch hour and after school were no problem as they learned new songs and dance routines.
Anthony’s relationship with Sandra intensified during the run-up to the show’s debut, and they spent virtually all of their time together. When the show closed, they finally had time to go on their first real “date”, and their standing as a couple was made official. Rare was the moment that their eyes were on anybody but each other.
Ezra had given up on the “Nerd Club” idea in late September (with Anthony always busy and Dipper in hospital). He was now fully embedded in the school’s photography club. The veteran members of the club, all of them in upper grades, admired Ezra’s skills with a camera. He liked being befriended by older students, who also never teased him about his weight, and spent most of his free time with his new friends.
On Monday after Thanksgiving, Dipper carefully picked his way through the cafeteria at lunchtime. The soothing numbness from the two Oxy pills he’d taken that morning was starting to wear off, and he was feeling the compulsion for a couple more. He willed himself to at least wait until after lunch. He approached the table where he used to always sit with Anthony and Ezra in those first couple of weeks of school, and as usual these days, the seats were empty.
Before he sat down, he glanced up out of habit to where Mabel and her posse of friends usually sat. Mabel was there, sitting alone, staring at the table as she chewed her sandwich.
Dipper had spent the last several weeks stewing in self-pity, and revelling in the haze of the painkillers he was taking. It occurred to him, seeing Mabel sitting alone, that he’d been ignoring her for quite awhile. And it also appeared that she looked none too happy.
He walked over to her table. “Hey, Mabes,” he said tentatively, standing across the table from his sister. She looked up with an interest level barely on this side of zero. He ploughed ahead. “Mind if I eat lunch with you?”
Mabel’s face lowered slowly back down to the table. “Knock yourself out, Bro,” she answered without enthusiasm.
As Dipper sat, he saw for the first time just how low Mabel was. Internally, he kicked himself for how little he'd been paying attention to her lately. He reached over and tapped her elbow. "Wanna talk about anything?" he asked gently.
Mabel swallowed the bite of her sandwich, but didn't look up. "What's the point?" she grumbled softly. "Is anything gonna change between us?"
Dipper suspected that was what was bothering her. He removed his sunglasses: the light didn’t hurt at all anymore, not while he was on Riley’s magic pills, but he had gotten used to not having to look anyone in the eye. Now, though, he found he wanted Mabel to see him, and he leaned over the table. "Mabel, you have to believe me when I say I still lo- ... still care about you," he muttered.
His sister’s head didn’t move, but her eyes darted accusingly to him. “You can’t even say it out loud,” she hissed, “not even whisper it, when no one is listening!”
“No, I can’t!” he hissed back, aware of other students sitting at nearby tables. “What would happen if …”
“I don’t care!” Mabel cut him off, whispering harshly. “Because it doesn’t matter, does it? Even if I do believe you … what’s the point?” she repeated. “What good is it, if knowing that only makes everything feel worse?"
Dipper sat frozen, unable to respond.
“I can’t take this, Dipper!” she continued. “How am I supposed to just keep going all hunky dory happy lappy, like nothing’s different, like nothing’s changed!! We have changed! Everything has changed! We’re … we’re much more than what we were … and I can’t go back. I can’t, Dipper!”
The thought that anyone might be listening was rapidly becoming much less important to Dipper by the second, as he was starting to comprehend just how much pain Mabel was in. “If this is about what I said at the hospital, before Mom came in the room, about how I got mad at you because you wanted to .. you know …”
Mabel shook her head. She glanced around, then spoke quietly. “Making love with you was wonderful ... and yeah, I miss it, but … it’s not just that ... it’s all of it! And we have none of it! I know it's dangerous, but you say I can't kiss you. I can't touch you! I can't talk to you. I ..." she gestured helplessly, staring at the half-eaten lunch on the table, "I can't even look at you!"
Dipper sat in helpless paralysis as Mabel continued. "If you weren’t always with me, maybe I could move on. But you are always with me! At school, at home, at church! … If I hated you for this, or you hated me, then maybe … but we don’t!” She closed her eyes as tears began streaming down her face. “I love you, Dip! And I know you love me, too!” she whispered, wiping her face with the napkin Dipper had pressed into her hands.
Dipper's instincts screamed at him, demanding he comfort his sister: he wanted to take her hands, hold her in his arms, and kiss her pain away. But he also was keenly aware that many students in the cafeteria had now taken notice of them, that Mabel was crying for some reason. Maybe if I get her outside, we can find a little private place, he thought.
“C’mon, Mabel …” he began.
But she misinterpreted the start of his sentence, thinking he just wanted to shut her down and stop making a scene. She threw her face to the ceiling, pulling air sharply through her nose, and quickly stood. Still avoiding Dipper’s eyes, she gathered up the remains of her lunch. “You’re right! Stop snivelling, stiff upper lip, all that jazz! I got it, Sir Dipshit!” she declared, loud enough that it triggered muffled laughter from nearby tables. Dipper knew it would be impossible to have a conversation now, and he allowed Mabel to leave without any further words between them.
Dipper sat alone for a moment, lost in thoughts of what his sister had just told him. Then he looked around, and noticed that other students were still curiously peering his way, wondering what was up with these two notoriously moody twins. Scowling, he shoved his sunglasses on his face, threw his untouched lunch into a garbage bin, and headed for the exit. He dug into a pocket for his bottle of Oxycontin, fished out three tablets, and quickly washed them down at a drinking fountain before disappearing out into the hallway.

As the autumn school semester came to a close, the mood inside the home of the Pines family did not match the merriment of the approaching Christmas season.
Mabel and Dipper had managed to eke out passing grades for all of their classes, assuming they managed to not completely flunk their final exams. It was the worst showing for either of them in all their years in school, and not a good way to start their high school careers. While Dipper, at least in the mind of his teachers, had a valid excuse, Mabel simply came across as a distant, disinterested, and underachieving teenager.
There was just one more day of exams left, and then the two-week break for Christmas and New Years would begin. It was Thursday evening and Dipper was in his room, trying to cram some more details about American history into his fuzzy brain, and hoping it stayed there for at least twenty-four hours.
A knock at his door interrupted his studying. “Come in,” he called out, looking up from his books, expecting one of his parents.
He was surprised to see Mabel opening the door, holding the same history textbook for their exam the next morning. They’d mostly stayed away from each other for the last month. Dipper found isolation to be somehow less painful than facing his sister, and their feelings for one another. Not for the first time, he noticed the grim expression on her face, and wondered if he should be even more worried about her. Sometimes it seemed like she was an entirely different person, someone who just didn’t care about anything, specifically herself.
She leaned on the frame of Dipper’s bedroom door awkwardly. “Got a sec, Broseph?” she asked morosely.
“Yeah. Of course, Mabes,” Dipper replied sincerely, turning his chair towards her. “Want to … study for the exam together?”
“Sure,” Mabel replied, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it. “Actually, no, not really.” She paused for a moment of uncomfortable silence. “Can I borrow something off of you?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Dipper replied. “What do you need?”
“Umm … “ Mabel sighed, twisting her hair in her hand. “Can I have some of those pills you take?”
Dipper’s eyes widened. Trying to play it cool, he replied, “You’re … not allowed to take my meds ... Mom keeps them in the cupboard, and I take them from there. She’d notice if any of them were missing. And besides, they wouldn’t really do anything …”
Mabel exhaled and rolled her eyes. “You know what pills I’m talking about, Dumbass!” she shot back softly. “The ones you’re buying at school!”
He gaped, unprepared for the ambush. “How … how did you know?” he stammered, wondering how much trouble he was in.
“I’m not an imbecile! I’ve known for a long time. Aisha told me when she first introduced you to Riley …before she got too busy to spend any time with me, like everybody else,” Mabel grumbled.
Dipper’s heart rate slowed a bit, as it looked like Mabel was not going to bust him to their parents. He regarded her carefully. “Why do you want those pills?” he asked.
“They take away pain, don’t they? They make you feel better? … I don’t want any more pain, either. I want to see if they’ll … make me feel better, too.”
“Yeah, but …” Dipper said worriedly, “they don’t work on that kind of pain, Mabel. You’re already taking your stuff for that, aren’t you?”
Mabel snorted with derision. “Yeah, and they’re working so well, I’ve been feeling so great for the last two months!” She stared at her brother. “C’mon, let me have a few. Like, maybe a dozen or so, so I can see if they work for me.”
He considered her request. The gentle and relaxing euphoria that he felt after taking Oxy might not make him feel better, per se, but they certainly were a distraction from dealing with stuff that made him feel worse. Perhaps they’d be able to distract Mabel from the stuff that bothered her, as well. Dipper sighed. “All right,” he said.
Reaching his hand under his bed, he felt around in a hole he had cut into the box spring, then pulled out a bag with two large bottles of pills. He dumped several into his palm, counting out twelve, as Mabel walked over to him.
“So you know you have to take it easy with these, right?” Dipper said. “You’ll feel it when you take just one, and with two you can get really spaced. More than that and …” Dipper stopped, as Mabel’s expression became one of contemplation as he started talking about what happens when a larger quantity of pills are consumed.
Dipper began reopening the bottle, preparing to put the pills back. “Maybe you should just try one, and see what that feels like.”
“No!” Mabel piped up, then more calmly, said, “No, Dipper, just … just let me have the dozen in your hand.”
A chill ran down Dipper’s spine as he heard quiet desperation in his sister’s voice. Adrenaline pushed the remaining haze from his mind. “Why?” he asked fearfully.
Mabel’s silence and intense glare was more than enough to tell him exactly why.
Dipper stood quickly, knocking his chair over onto the floor, and grabbed Mabel’s arm with his empty hand. “Mabel … No!” he rasped, in shock. “Why are you thinking about stuff like that?”
Her jaw set, and one of her eyes narrowed. Dipper recognized it as Mabel’s tell that she was about to take action. As a result, he was prepared when she lunged for his hand, the one with the pills gripped in his palm. Moving with a dexterity he never knew he had, Dipper used Mabel’s momentum against her and threw her past him onto his bed. Then in one smooth motion, he dumped the loose pills into the pill bag, folded it over, and whipped the entire bag into the back of his closet. As Mabel got back to her feet, Dipper slammed the closet door, and stood in front of it.
They stared at each other, Mabel with determination born of desperation, Dipper panting in frightened panic. For over a minute, but for what seemed an eternity, neither moved an inch.
Mabel’s resolve cracked first. Her expression slowly collapsed from defiance to despair. “Dipper … please!” she croaked softly.
“No, Mabel!” he implored. “I can’t! Not ever! You … you can’t do anything like that! … Why, Mabel? Why would you try to do this?” Dipper’s voice was quivering with barely controlled emotion.
Mabel’s expression twisted as she released her dejection. “Are you serious, Dipper? You don’t know? How can you not know? Ever since … ever since the day before we came home from Gravity Falls, when … when Grunkle Stan told us that he knew about us! Nothing has been good since! Everything has been hell! And now, we’ve got Christmas, less than a week away! Everyone’s supposed to be so happy! It’s supposed to be the most joyful, giving, loving time of the year! And I don’t feel any of that!!”
Her face contorted even more. “I can’t do this anymore,” she whimpered. “I’ve tried! I’ve tried!! Nothing’s changed! Nothing’s better! I’m miserable, Dipper! I’m so miserable, I can’t stand it!!” She drew a shuddering gasp. “I don’t want to live like this, if this is what living is going to be like! … I … I just … can’t!!” Mabel slowly sank to her knees, curling her head down, her body jerking as she forced her chest muscles to contain her sobs.
Dipper knelt down in front of her and gripped her shoulders. Mabel shook violently, not wanting his touch as she continued to weep forcefully, but quietly. Dipper stayed in front of her, trying to hold back his own tears.
“Mabel ... you need help! You’ve … we’ve got to tell Mom and Dad about this!” Mabel shook her head firmly, her chin still pinned to her chest. “Please, Mabel, I’ll … I’ll go tell them myself! You have to let me …”
She drew a large breath. “No, Dipper!” she snarled. “I said no! If you tell them … I’ll tell them about your pills!” as she glared at her brother threateningly.
As Dipper looked back at Mabel in horror, they heard a call from down the hall from their mother. “Dip! Pumpkin! Are you guys busy right now?”
Dipper continued his unwanted staring contest with Mabel as he loudly replied, “We’re studying for our history exam tomorrow, Mom!”
“Well, can you take a break for a few minutes?” she called back. “We have some good news to tell you!”
Mabel bitterly stared back at Dipper. “We’ll be right there, Mama!” she yelled.
“Okay, thanks!” they heard their mother reply, as the twins slowly calmed down and reluctantly prepared to once again cover up the harsh reality of their relationship together, and present themselves to their parents as “normally” as they could.

“We’re doing what for Christmas?” Dipper asked in confusion.
Their mother smiled with fake enthusiasm. “We’re getting away from here! The last few months have been pretty awful, with everything that’s happened. We thought we needed to pull out of here and get a change of scenery. It will do us all some good!”
Mabel had a tiny sliver of adventure that even major depression couldn’t entirely cover up. “So, we’re taking a vacation somewhere?”
It was their father’s turn to put on a smile. “Well, we considered getting a place at a resort in Mexico, or a Caribbean island, but the rates for places like that during the holidays are really high. And even if we could justify spending the money, every place we tried that looks any good was already booked up. So … we’re doing the next best thing!”
The twins looked to and from each of their parents impatiently. “What?” they asked in unison.
Their mother grinned. “We’re all driving up to Oregon, and we’re going to spend Christmas with your Grunkle Stan in Gravity Falls!” she practically squealed, shaking her fists quickly back and forth in front of her in a display of forced excitement.
Mabel and Dipper’s mouths both dropped open. Against their will, their heads turned to each other in disbelief.
They were going to be sitting next to each other in the back seat of the car for almost ten hours each way. They were going to have to do family holiday activities together. They were going to be sleeping in the same room together. All with their parents right there watching every move, thinking that they were helping the twins heal their friendship.
All with Grunkle Stan seeing all of this, knowing exactly what had happened to cause all of this misery between the kids.
The twins silently knew that this was the worst possible plan for Christmas that could possibly have been conceived by man or deity. Their faces betrayed their absolute lack of enthusiasm.
“Oh, come on!” their mother said, trying to excite the kids. “It’ll be a mini-adventure, like some of those stories we heard about your first summer up there. It’ll be fun, I promise!” She clapped her hands together eagerly. “Hey! I know! Why don’t you two do my favorite thing to celebrate? Do that .. fist bumping … thing you do! It’s always the cutest!”
Dipper and Mabel again looked at each other, dreading what they were being asked to do. Despite the months of hard feelings, despite the tension and threats uttered just minutes ago in Dipper’s room, this was almost too much for both of them. The fistbump was theirs, their private symbol of love between them. They hadn’t performed the action in over three months.
Mabel bit her lower lip as she balled up her hand in front of her. Dipper closed his eyes and raised his own fist.
Their fists lightly tapped together in the most unsatisfying fistbump ever performed in history.

To be continued ...
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Fistbump 2: Unspeakable (a Pinecest story)